I hurried down the stairs. Determined to right the wrongs Susie had left with her overly positive attempt at cleaning up from dinner.

How could one person cause so much chaos wherever she went and look so damn happy about the fact, too? She was either impossibly untidy, or totally oblivious to the carnage. I wasn't even sure which I would prefer.

The stack of plates and glasses balanced precariously on the edge of the drainer set me on edge. One wrong move and they would have fallen and shattered at her feet. She could have hurt herself. And the mess? The mess would have tipped me over the edge of the sanity and professionalism I desperately tried to cling to.

Scooping up a towel, I began drying the dishes methodically and returning them to their correct places. Everything in its place, just as it should be.

I let out a slow breath as some of the calm order returned to my home. What the hell had I been thinking?

Letting an employee stay in my home for the night was about the biggest nightmare I could probably throw at my HR person. Especially someone like Susie. She was pretty, if you liked people who were sunshine personified, which I absolutely didn't.

New to the team and eager to please, I didn't want to risk anything I did or said being mistaken for interest in her. That was why I had tried so hard to avoid her. There was no sense risking anyone getting the wrong idea.

Still, no matter the reason, I was fairly certain HR would be yelling at me on Monday.

She would definitely be pointing out all the ways I could have dealt with the situation better. As though I didn't already know. I could easily have arranged for a taxi or something to come and get her. Or offered to drive her home myself.

But the snow had been awful. It wasn't really safe for anyone to drive in it, I reasoned, slamming the glass into the cupboard with more force than I had intended.

The resulting noise had me freezing and glancing towards the stairs, praying I hadn't been loud enough to pique Susie's curiosity.

After a moment of silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the mantle, I allowed my body to relax and softly eased the cupboard door closed. Leaving the towel neatly hanging through the handle of the cutlery drawer, I wiped clean the sink and returned the washing up sponge to its rightful place in the tub on the windowsill.

The window that gave me a clear view out over the carpark and Susie's abandoned vehicle through the thin wooden blinds. I cursed the fact that I hadn't insisted all the staff left earlier. When the weather warning had been just that; a warning of what was to come.

Back when I had first planned to head down to the office to collect some of the printed figures from the meeting earlier, but decided to wait until all the staff were gone.

Regular checks confirmed the departure of my area manager, but Susie returned to the office, and I frowned. Perhaps if I had had the courage to make my way to the office then and insist she went home herself, rather than watching from the window like some creepy peeping Tom, none of this would have happened.

When I had noticed Susie leaving, I had breathed a sigh of relief and I kept out of sight of the windows. Waiting patiently until I was sure she was gone. But I never heard her car drive off and a quick peek through the window had confirmed she was trudging back through the snow to the office.

I waited awhile, thinking she had probably forgotten something. However, as I waited, the snow worsened to the point where I wondered if it was really safe for anyone to drive in it.

Was she waiting it out? Or perhaps she had fallen and hurt herself? From our few brief encounters, I had learnt how clumsy and accident prone she was.

On her second day, she had given herself a black eye walking into my open kitchen window on her way to the car park. I had made sure to keep it closed at all times now, which wasn't really an issue now. The weather had turned so cold I hadn't wanted to open it, anyway.

Her third week, I had received word she had somehow managed to pull the printer off the side when she tripped over and broke it. On top of seeing her trip over thin air constantly, I had been concerned enough that I organised to get the path from the office to the car park gritted in the icy weather.

The last thing I needed was to be dealing with a broken bone because she had skidded over out there.

After a fair few more minutes, I became worried enough to retrieve my coat and head down there to check she was ok. Then seeing her there, not a care in the world as she smiled at something she read had made me frown.

Her explanation for being there made a lot of sense, and I was mostly relieved she wasn't hurt. But the office wasn't made for people to stay in. Logically, I knew that my home wasn't really the appropriate place for her to stay either.

But I had a bed.

Not my bed, another bed.

A spare one.

What was the harm in letting her stay one night? My brain veered from 'you had no choice' back to 'that's the worst idea you've ever had Henry Carter'.

Yes, there were many opportunities for me to have done something, but instead I had chosen inaction up until the point I really had no choice.

The story of my life, I thought miserably. My mind briefly drifted, dragging me down the dark path of my memories. I shook my head and forced myself back into the present.

There was no sense dwelling on what was done. My only focus should be on what was ahead.

Better to process that my home was full of mess and noise instead of order and calm, and I only had myself to blame, rather than think anymore on the what ifs.

Still, how was I supposed to sleep tonight knowing my strangely tempting, overly bubbly little employee was sleeping just a few rooms away from me?

It was only professional concern that had me thinking about her now. Any good boss would wonder how their staff were sleeping. Wouldn't they?

I groaned and rubbed a hand through my hair before making my way back through the house, switching the lights off as I went. There was nothing I could do about it now.

My only option was to head to bed and pray sleep found me quickly.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, I paused outside her room and listened a moment. When I heard nothing but a soft gentle snore, I smiled slightly.

Of course she snored.

It didn't take long to undress and place my dirty clothes neatly in the laundry bin. Tucked up in bed, I gazed at the door and reminded myself repeatedly that she was my employee and that was all.

A scream ripped through the quiet of the morning and I bolted out of sleep, leaping from the bed before I could even process what it might be.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but my god would I remember waking up for the rest of my days.

My heart pounded in my chest as I dashed towards the room and wrenched open the door without even thinking. Was she hurt? Was something hurting her?

"Are you ok? I heard you scream." I demanded, looking around for anything that could have been threatening her life and causing her to scream like that.

"I.. I'm fine," Susie replied, biting her bottom lip and trying to look anywhere but at me, "just dropped my phone."

"Oh." A mix of relief and embarrassment coursed through me as I was suddenly acutely aware of how much I had overreacted. "Well, I'm glad you're ok."

I was just backing out again when I finally looked at her, and my body froze. Bare shoulders were only just hidden by her wild hair and she clutched the bunched up sheets tightly to her chest. The flush on her cheeks deepened under my gaze.

Almost unconsciously, my body took a step towards her. Like magnets were pulling us together.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

What was there to say? There was nothing in the company handbook that covered situations like this with your employees.

With great difficulty, I took a slow step backwards again. Trying desperately to look anywhere but at the blankets she hid herself behind.

Our eyes collided for the briefest moment, and I held my breath.

Her face was normally an open book, but right now, I had no idea what was going on inside her mind.

I needed something. Space? Distance? To think clearly, and that was impossible when faced with her looking at me like that.

"I'll see you downstairs for breakfast." I choked out before practically running from the room.